Shifting Fates: Veil of the Forgotten

Ch. 11

“Intransigent”

I feel Halfy’s eyes tighten under me. He is measuring and calculating how quickly he could rip this now mortal man apart. Probably under five seconds.

An Akhlut could kill a man in the blink of an eye if they choose. Ferocious when they want to be. Tamed by no means other than a bond forged to protect me from everything, mortal vampire men included. I am not surprised Halfy chased him when he found us. Too bad he didn’t catch him.

I look at Zanir. His eyes flick toward me, and a small flame ignites behind those cerulean blues. As if Halfy sees it too, a low growl passes from his fangs.

Halfy, as much as I would love to see you tear this man apart, I think he may be of some use to us.

Or at least, that is what I am going to tell myself. If I’m wrong, I’m putting Halfy — and myself — at risk. But the information he holds could mean everything. Vampires don’t just wander around. They’re calculating. Purposeful, or that is what is seems like. I need to know why he’s here and what information he holds behind that stupid smirk, and if that means letting him closer than I would like, so be it.

Halfy eases a bit, but only slightly. Muscles still ridged, ready to pounce if needed. Just waiting for my word.

“Remember this beast. Fought Halfbloods for me.” I murmur, leaning in the Zanir’s direction. “One wrong move, and you’ll just be another speck of blood on his snout.”

“He reminds me of someone…” Zanir’s smirk falters for just a heartbeat before it returns. “A creature of great wrath and danger. I wonder where Halfy gets it from?” His gaze lingers. “But I’ll keep that in mind.”

“We can take you to see her, Mother, but only she can determine if you are worthy of having your stuff back,” I say, trying to steady my voice while remaining soft. Which just sounds wrong coming from me, but my energy is weakened, and this stupid head of mine won’t stop spinning.

The idea of going back already makes me want to vomit. But maybe this will show I can leave and come back… useful. Despite the dread that is creeping from the edges of my mind, pushing forward is the only option.

Zanir brushes his torn tunic off, as it barely drapes along his shoulder in pieces, looking at me still, taking in my words, but while watching Halfy out of the corners of his eyes. Up close, and probably still worrying about being eaten or chased again.

A spark moves through my skull, a memory tugs at the edges of my mind — a bustling port, fishermen hauling in their catch, children laughing as they play. In the midst of it all, a boy stands beside a woman whose hair shines like the sun, brushing at his tunic, laughter dancing on his lips, but his face is blurry. But as quickly as it comes, the image fades, leaving only a vague sense of familiarity.

I close my eyes, shaking my head, trying to dispel the intrusion, that only leaves me with more questions. When my eyes open, they fall back to the creature that they seem to be drawn to… against my will.

Zanir is a tall man, but Halfy towers over him, but he is still tall. Way taller than my true form. His cerulean eyes, born into the night, lock onto me, like a wisp in blackness. His dark mahogany colored hair is ruffled from running and then climbing a tree, I assume. His ears are still covered. I will figure that answer out at some point. I can see the marks from the trees through the ripped parts of his clothes. His muscles are scratched, and dry blood drips down a few of them. Mortal healing, slow and weak. Now closer than before, I can tell that what I was seeing earlier was, in fact, was tattoos along his arms and crawling up his neck. The ink dances before my eyes, swirling into shapes I can’t quite make out.

He notices me looking him up and down, and he smiles. “I know you’re admiring me.” He runs his hands through his hair, enough to fluff his shoulder-length dark hair, but not enough to uncover his ears. One of his eyebrows raises and I scowl. “But even Halfy isn’t quick enough to catch me.”

Halfy lets out a low grumble deep from his barreled chest.

“It is ill-advised to insult a beast that is only a stride distance away from you,” I say in that matter-of-fact tone. Because I, indeed, have all the facts. Except about vampires…well fuck. “And I am not talking about Halfy.”

His eyes remain on me, never breaking. I am getting the feeling that he is trying to figure out what I truly am, or does he already know? Doubtful, maybe. I am a creature of many mysteries. Or he is waiting to see if I falter... again? Not again. I am still questioning if he is trustworthy or not, but if needed, Halfy will not mind dragging him to the nearest water depths if I say so.

Halfy do not hate me. I know what I am doing. I promise.

Not really actually, but it is more so that I am just willing to chance it. I am doing this to prove I am an asset, not just a pretty ornament for the castle walls. We need to know about the vampires, their clan, anything, any possible new or important information. Such as why was he meeting with Muma Padurii, the mother of the forest. If I can turn this entire experience into something good for the clan and prove myself, that is all that matters now, even if my insides are begging against it.

“Hop on.” I motion towards Halfy’s back. I can feel Halfy become stiff as if that was more possible, but he then relaxes when I pet his ear with my wing. The trust he has in me. I hope it never breaks. Zanir is analyzing all his options. I can see it on his face. The tick of his sharp jaw. The tell of his furrowed eyebrows. Even the orange that changes in his blue irises.

“You could instead walk if you want,” I suggest with a small shrug, though I know walking would take too long. I want to see if he’ll take the bait. Halfy watches him intently, ginger eyes gleaming under the moonlight. A beast like Halfy doesn’t forget a chase so easily.

He quickly stomps over to us, closing the mere feet between us as if some of his vampire speed still lingered. “Walking, as a mortal, is awful. Each step aching more and more than the last. I can feel my joints cracking with each step. I have put this corpse through hell over many centuries.” He says, and he rubs his lower back. “Being mortal is awfully peculiar.” I watch as Zanir rubs his back before quickly letting his hand fall. “Every breath feels thinner. This body is… fragile, too fragile. As a vampire I could teat through the forest for days, weeks even, but now? I feel very damn step.”

Halfy keeps his gaze fixed ahead, deliberately avoiding Zanir’s observational type stare. Zanir, hesitating, approaches and reaches out to Halfy. Still focused on Halfy’s face — his ginger golden eyes and the slightest curl of his jowls. Zanir’s fingers graze the white fur of the magnificent beast, and Halfy remains unmoved. Aside from a faint huff of breath, there is no indication that Halfy is about to lash out — at least for now.

Thank you, Halfy.

I glance at Zanir, and I can tell memories of something long forgotten are flooding back to him. His sharp jaw ticks and the scar moves along with it. He knows of Akhluts. I wonder what other kinds of interactions has he had with them. Halfy is the only one I have ever seen, the only one I have ever known. What other encounters with other creatures has he had?

Zanir’s hand moves slowly through Halfy’s fur, his expression softening as his fingers meet the porpoise-like smoothness of the skin beneath. For a moment, just a flicker, something other than amusement touches his face. Not the smug smirks I’m used to — something deeper, almost… nostalgic. But just as quickly, it is gone.

I catch it though. Always watching, always noticing. Years behind a window trained me. That smile wasn’t for me or Halfy. It was for something else, something long-buried.

Interesting. 

He grabs a hold of some of Halfy’s fur, and pauses, looking towards me a little suspicious.

“You won’t hurt him, and he won’t hurt you... unless I say so, of course.” I say with a sly smile, though I am not sure if I fully believe it myself. Letting a vampire — even a mortal one — near Halfy is a risk, but I know Halfy would do anything for me, begrudgingly. Halfy could rip him apart in seconds if needed. I know it. Halfy knows it. And I bet even Zanir does. I hope this goes as planned. Halfy, if I told him to, would rip off every extremity slowly from his now mortal corpse. 

Zanir shows one of those smirks again, before gripping Halfy’s white fur and pulling himself onto the beast’s back. He leans into the dense coat, and I am reminded of all the times I have done the same.

“I didn’t realize how cold I was,” he says with a hint of mockery that burrows into Halfy’s fur. “It is a miserable feeling.” I can see his eyes cutting through the white fur, meeting mine. “Even though I was chased like a loose chicken. I am thankful that Halfy decided to go on a rescue venture.” After a heartbeat, he adds with a wry grin, “After you bit me. An Akhlut’s wrath is not something I want to be at the end of, vampire or not.” His chuckle is so faint, nearly lost in the frigid autumn winds that sweep through the valley at the end of the mountain ranges. “There was a time when I feared nothing — when death was not an option, only a curse for others. Now? Now I feel the pulse of my own heartbeat, loud in my ears. This forest, its creatures… they could end me. So, Halfy devotion to you is something I am grateful for.” Zanir says with his face still buried within Halfy’s white fur that has a soft silver tint in the passing lunar light. “Why do you call him Halfy?”

“Because he is half wolf and half orca…and I was like eight.” I have committed to being an ancient bat. Even though I have no concept of how old bats normally live unless there are timeless bats somewhere in this world. Which is possible because anything is possible. But I know acting like this is a totally normal thing, makes it normal, true, right? I sometimes forget that Halfy has been with me since I was so young. Memories from certain parts of my childhood are hard to recall, but Halfy has always been a constant. 

Zanir raises his head and tilts it toward me. I feel myself smiling and then quickly let it fall. Shit. Probably the oldest bat alive.

“Hold on tight.” I pat Halfy’s head with my wings and he is running through the Endless Forest without a second thought or word from anyone... Thank the goddess Nyx.